


WinterIron 35 - Tinsel

by tisfan



Series: Stocking Stuffers [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Addict Tony Stark, I Love You, M/M, accidental confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Barista Bucky's favorite customer is in line.





	WinterIron 35 - Tinsel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orbingarrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbingarrow/gifts), [NemoHime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NemoHime/gifts).



“You’re up,” Steve said, less than four minutes into Bucky’s fifteen minute break.

Bucky didn’t even look up from his phone long enough to flip Steve off. “I get eleven more minutes,” he said, which was surely enough time to beat this super hard level of Fishdom.

“ _He’s_ in line, Buck,” Steve said.

And Bucky was scrambling to put his phone away, grab his apron, and run a quick set of fingers through his artfully sloppy hairstyle. There was only one _he_ in Bucky’s life. “Fuck, he’s early today,” Bucky muttered. Usually Bucky took his break from 9 to 9:15 just because Bucky expected _him_ in line around half past.

In Bucky’s less graceful moments, he hated the fact that the guy had no name. The first time Bucky’d taken his order, he’d given Primrose Everdeen as the name, and then “I volunteer as tribute”d the cup and winked on his way out. Since then, he’d gone through dozens of similar jokes, some of them downright hilarious. And he came in every day, and seeing him was the best part of Bucky’s shift.

Today, _he_ was wearing a tee with Starry Night on it (except the one with the Tardis hanging out in the lower right hand corner), jeans that were so tight as to be illegal, and a sport jacket that looked like he slept in it. He topped off the look with an ugly bowler hat with a runner of red and green tinsel garland where the hatband should have been, and orange sunglasses that should not have looked good with any outfit, much less the one he had on, and yet, did.

“Late night Christmas party?” Bucky asked when _he_ made it to the front of the line.

“Office thing, had to go, couldn’t get out of it,” _he_ said. “Gimme th’ usual, an’ a double usual, you angel of darkness, you.”

Bucky laughed. The usual, for him, was an extra large, black coffee. The double-usual, was five double-shots poured into a small cup with a dollop of heavy cream and two squirts of simple syrup. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Not a wink of it,” _he_ said. “I am in dire need of lovely, lovely caffeination, or I’m likely to fall asleep at this meeting I’ve got in--” he pushed back his jacket sleeve to look at his watch, “--less than half an hour.”

“You need a keeper,” Bucky said. “Someone t’ make sure you eat and sleep and drink something other than high octane.”

“If you’re volunteering for that job,” _he_ said, giving Bucky a long once-over, “then I might consider it."

Bucky didn't have anything to say to that, because yes, please, I'd love to do that for you was probably creepy and weird and all sorts of unprofessional. "Name?” 

“You know who I am,” _he_ said.

 _I have no idea who you are_ , Bucky wrote on the cup. Bucky got to work, filling the order. _He_ leaned against the counter, hip thrust out and long legs emphasized, drinking his coffee black and watching as Bucky poured shots into a cup.

“Here you are,” Bucky said, putting the cup down. “Good luck with your meeting.”

“Thanks,” _he_ said. “Love you, too.”

Bucky’d been working as a barista for a long damn time. He’d been given hundreds, maybe even thousands, of on auto-pilot rote responses from customers. There was a girl who came in on Wednesdays only, who always told him to “live long and prosper.” He’d been told “merry Christmas” in April, and “thanks for shopping at K-mart.” He’d probably been told “love you” by random strangers and regular customers.

It was still nice to hear. Damn nice. Bucky couldn’t help the silly, stupid smile that plastered itself across his face. “Thank you,” Bucky said, sincerely. “It’s good to hear it. Been a while.”

He blinked, then blinked again. Mortification crossed his face. “Oh, god, did I say that outloud? I am so, so sorry, I… was just…”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Bucky said, trying not to die inside. Of course _he_ didn’t mean it, Bucky knew that, but listening to the embarrassed retraction was painful anyway. “It’s sweet. You should hear some of the _other_ things people say to me that they probably don’t mean. Being told that I’m loved? Yeah, that’ll keep me going most of the day.”

The blush faded off his cheeks a little and Bucky could all but see _him_ consider the idea of leaving the coffee shop and never, _ever_ coming back.

“Please,” Bucky said, reaching out and grabbing _his_ wrist, like Bucky had any right at all to touch a customer. _He_ smiled, a little sheepishly, but didn’t jerk his wrist away. “Don’t worry about it. I--uh, you know, it’s fine. Brain under-caffeinated and on automatic, happens all the time. I’ve had customers leave th’ store an’ tell me ‘enjoy the movie.’”

 _His_ eyes dimmed a little. “Oh. Oh, yeah,” he said. “Completely, accidental, yeah, that’s what it was. Just. You know, thinking. About other… something… else. I’m sorry.”

Wait, what? Bucky tightened his fingers on _his_ wrist. “Now I’m confused,” he admitted. “What are you apologizing for?”

 _He_ sighed, long and deep and when he was finished, he seemed somehow… deflated. “Look, I know. It’s bad form to flirt with someone while they’re working. Not seriously, at any rate, because you _have_ to smile and you have to be nice to me, but it seems sometimes, to me, that you’re the only one who _ever_ is, and I know that’s part of your job, but… I come in here because it’s nice to start my day off with seeing someone who seems… happy to see me. So, you know, I just… I think things, and they’re probably wrong things, and I don’t say them, and it just slipped out. So, I’m sorry--” He pulled his hand free and was out the door before Bucky could protest.

“Um, what just happened?”

Steve nudged him. “I think your fella just talked himself all the way out of asking you out.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Bucky said. “Goddamnit.” He reached for the ties on the back of his work-apron.

“Go on, take th’ rest of your break,” Steve said. “He always heads over to Stark Tower.”

Bucky threw his apron onto the counter and was out the door and into the cold before Steve had even finished his sentence.

“Hey!” Fuck, Bucky could see him, but-- and goddamn, he didn’t even know the guy’s name. “Hey… wait… Primrose! Primrose Everdeen!”

 _He_ came to an abrupt halt, nearly getting run over by the crowd behind him before finding a newspaper box to take up shelter near. “I… uh,” he said, when Bucky caught up, “volunteer as tribute?”

“Look, I’m on the last eleven minutes of my break, and I know you have a meeting, but,” Bucky hesitated, then reached out and took _his_ hand. “Uh, I meant it. It was _really_ nice to hear, and… you know, maybe a little premature, because I don’t even know your actual name, but… look, you’re the best part of my day, too, and I’m on break, so no one’s makin’ me be nice to you. I’m nice to you because I like you. An’... if you wanted t’ you know, flirt, or even go out sometime, that’d… that’d be okay with me. More than okay.”

“We are going to revisit this conversation when I have had more coffee, and after this meeting,” _he_ said. “And you may have to talk really fast because I’m not sure I actually heard what I think I’m hearing. So. What time do you get off shift?”

“Two,” Bucky said. “Tell you what. I’ll go across the street after I’m done, there’s a pastry shop on the corner, they have really good pie. And I’ll have a slice. You can come sit with me, if you want, and we can go from there.”

“Yeah? I like pie,” _he_ said.

“Good,” Bucky said. “So, um… what _is_ your name?”

 _He_ smiled, brilliant and charming and ear to ear. He leaned over and kissed Bucky’s cheek, a warm, soft press of lip that continued to tingle after he pulled away.

“It’s Tony,” he said. “Tony Stark.”


End file.
